It's Not The Geth
by Yargling
Summary: The end of the Normandy 1 and what happened next. A collection of shorter stories.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

* * *

The klaxon's yelled out their alarm as Tali'Zorah vas Neema looked up from her monitor on the SR-1 Normandy's console. A brief moment of surprise flashed in her mind before a blast from the electronics threw her off her feet and onto the deck, making the world go black for a few precious seconds. As the world flooded back in, a dull ache in the back of her head felt like now was the time to start making itself known.

The wail of the ships klaxon's greeted her back into the moment and she staggered to her feet, taking in the scene of destruction in the engine room. Over half the consoles had shut down completely, and the rest where clearly on route to joining their fallen companions in the digital afterlife. Even the Migrant fleet would have had a hard time making use of those components now.

"Keelah" she exclaimed to herself, and turned to evacuate engineering, trying not look at the floating body of a crewman. She turned and staggered down the cargo hold, her mind rapidly burling as she started to run with the rest of the crew, reaching an escape pod. She turned to jump in and slammed into Wrex as he stood in the pod.

"Careful Quarian; if we weren't already in a fight for our lives, I'd have been forced to fight you" said Wrex, his amused voice coming from the mic on his suit. Three of the human crew were strapped into the pods seats, and it was clear Wrex was unlikely to fit into one of the free chairs. He didn't seem to want to try regardless.

"And then I'd be forced to shoot you Krogan" she retorted. She didn't wait for his chuckle of reply and instead parked herself into a seat and strapped in. The seat was alittle big, but she'd gotten used to human sized chairs over the last month.

After a brief look out of the pod, the crewman nearest door seemed to conclude that now was the time to go, and mashed his palm on the large red button. With a harsh jotted that slammed Tali into the right of her seat, the pod began its flight. Wrex merely grunted, barely moving as the pod shaked and rattled.

"Any word on Shepard and the rest of the team?" she shouted into her mic as the pods shaking made it hard to hear.

"Williams radioed that he's gone to fetch Joker. Woulda left the cripple myself." but Tali could tell he was just being alittle grumpy because of the constant shaking.

Tali turned her head to look out of the rear glass, but the shaking stopped her from getting a clear view of the Normandy, but even so, she could see the wreckage pouring off the vessel. Suddenly, yellow beam cut into the Normandy.

"Bosh'tet!" she exclaimed, and Wrex replied, "Shepard picks good enemies."

She was about to comment when she saw a flash of a pod firing off from the Normandy, narrowly escaping the explosion as the beam killed the Normandy.

"May Keelah guide your path Normandy" she said as the ship died in the distance before opening her mic to radio, "Tali to Joker, is Shepard on board?"

The crackle of radio traffic was the only reply for a few long seconds before the disheartened voice of Joker replied, "Joker to all pods... the Commander... he's gone."

The radio was quiet for a moment before Williams, Liara, Garrus, and members of the crew broke into the channel, requesting confirmation. But Tali could feel the weight of the world sinking in and she knew the others where feeling it. Wrex remained silent, but Tali didn't even notice and she looked back towards the Normandy, forcing herself to watch as the broken vessel died, taking her friend, her captain, and one of the best people she'd ever known, down into well of the planet below.


	2. Chapter 2

**Aftermath**

* * *

Flux's bar on the Citadel had managed to avoid being crushed by the flying wreckage of Sovereign just over a month ago. The Volus Doran the bartender and owner was sulking at the once lively and active hotspot of the upper wards. He looked over the handful of customers who'd visited his rapidly failing business; no more than six, and all but one of them repair crews for the rebuilding of the Citadel.

The last one was a Turian who didn't look like C-Sec and didn't look like a workman. He looked familiar, now Doran came to think of it; "Can I get you another drink, Palaven'Clan?"

The Turian just nodded slightly, and Doran decided pretty quickly that he wasn't in the mood to talk - fine by him, the quiet ones tended to drink more.

Just when Doran thought he could relax into his sulking, he saw a Quarian enter the bar and frowned. He didn't have anything against the clanless when they could pay, but they did tend to upset the other customers... Or used to when he had many customers to be upset. To Doran's surprise, the Quarian made straight for the grumpy Turian, and so Doran keep his eyes on the Quarians hands – he didn't have anything against them, but they did tend to steal and thieve…

* * *

Tali pulled the chair out slightly and slipped into the barstool next to Garrus.

"So..." she said simply.

"So..." he replied, not committing to the conversation so far.

"Wrex?" she asked quietly.

"Tuchanka"

"Liara?"

"She ran off to look for..." Garrus shook his head alittle before finishing, "The body." Garrus choose this moment to down another glass.

"Another Palaven'Clan? And for the clanless?"

Tali frowned inside her suit and raised a hand to point a finger at the volus, "Zorah'clan, Volus... I'll have whatever Garrus is having."

"Apologies, Zorah'clan - I'd assumed you were like the clanless of your kind," as the pressure suited hands supplied the glasses. Glowing eye holes regarded the pair before saying as excitedly as the Volus could muster, "You where with the Earth'clan Shepard!"

Garrus grunted and looked at Doran, "I'm sure you have other customers waiting." Doran got the hint and made himself apparently very busy polishing the other end of his bar, trying to strike up a conversation with a sullen Salarian, though he seemed to be trying to talk to the Salarian and eavesdrop on their conversation at once.

"She went after his..." she didn't finish, shaking her head alittle, "I see. Chief Williams has been reassigned I assume? Joker? Dr. Chakwas?"

Garrus simply nodded.

Tali sighed and said, "Garrus? Talk to me like I'm here, please. It's bad enough people blank me out because of species I am without my friends doing it too."

Garrus didn't do anything for a moment before looking to her and saying, "Sorry Tali...its just...its all gone to shit since those bastards broke the Normandy and took Shepard from us. You'd think having a Reaper attack the Citadel would be proof enough for the Council."

Tali shrugged expansively and said, "It's like when the Geth rebelled. The council always takes the path of less risk in the present no matter what long term problems it builds up. The Rachni, the Krogan, the Geth... the council just deals with things with the easiest path and leaves it to rot. Doesn't matter what happens in a hundred years time, so long as the Citadel is safe for now. Their trying to convince everyone it was just Geth; that the Reapers don't even exist… and the lies seem to be working. Even Shepard's own Alliance isn't interested in the Reapers."

Garrus nodded slowly, "Yes. But this time, when it's the Reapers biting them in the collective ass, we'll all be screwed. They aren't trying to conquer us – their trying to harvest us. The council are being a bunch of children, covering their ears and going 'La-la-la, we can't hear you'."

"Bosh'tets, the lot of them..." They where both quiet for a whole five minutes before Tali asked, "What now? Wrex is off to help his people, Liara's on a crazed mission, and the Alliance crew aren't able to help."

Garrus considered the question for some time, almost getting another rebuke from Tali before he spoke, "C-Sec doesn't need another officer getting in the way of the repair crews. Rejoining them wouldn't really help..."

Tali looked down at the bar and mumbled, "I need to finish my pilgrimage... that Geth data... with enough luck, my people could beat back the Geth."

Garrus nodded slightly and said, "Its alright Tali. Your people need you."

"But what will you do? The team will be all gone when I go… I would invite you to the fleet - a man of your tactics and experience... but you could infect us... stupid biology..."

Garrus chuckled and added, "And I don't look good in a suit. Spoils my style; Hard to strike a pose in vacuum seals."

"You don't know the half of it" Tali muttered teasingly.

Garrus smiled "No, but thank you for the thought... I'm going to leave Citadel space, I think... there are alot of people out there who are getting kicked by the bullies of the universe. Our time with Shepard showed us that much.... I want to kick them back."

Tali smiled inside the suit and added teasingly, "I see. Garrus, defender of the innocent?"

"I'm not joking Tali. Shepard showed us alot. Including how to get things done. And if your data is as valuable to the fleet as you think, the Quarian people might be stronger when the Reapers finally get here. If I can show the kicked in the Terminus systems they can kick back, we'll have an army ready for that day. That and I'll have the satisfaction of dealing with the scum of the galaxy."

Tali looked at Garrus in shock, and slid her arms around him and hugged, "Ok Garrus. Just be careful out there. I have few enough friends out here away from the Fleet as is." After a moment, she released.

"I'll be careful Tali...though after charging up the side of the Presidium tower, fighting off Geth, Krogan, and a Reaper-possessed Spectre, careful has a much wider meaning for me..."

Tali laughed, and added, "True... though their should be fewer awkward talks on lifts out there." She sniffed slightly and added, "Is it always this strange when one chapter of you're life ends? It was so strange when I left for my pilgrimage, both exciting and scary. But this time..." She waved her hand expressively, "I just feel like we've lost so much."

Garrus replied, "Its always hard losing someone. And Shepard was one of a kind. But give it time, Tali..."

She nodded slightly and said, "Goodbye, Garrus. May Keelah watch over you and guide us to meet again. Keelah'sal"

"Good luck Tali. For you and your people."

And with that, Tali walked out of the bar...


	3. Chapter 3

**Ash's Story**

* * *

"Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers"  
- **Lord Alfred Tennyson.**

**Robur Colony – 16:23 Local Time (0921 Alliance Standard Time)**

Slowly pulling off the left lower torso plate of her armour, Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams strained to bend double further to examine her latest wound, armoured glove trying to carefully clean away the surface blood without the spikes of hot pain touching it gave her.

_Doesn't look too bad, medi-gel will be enough for now,_ she thought to herself. She took an applicator and tried to steady her shaking hands; _Hold it together marine, don't let the shock sink in, you're not done yet._ She bit down on her lip and pressed the business end of the applicator into the wound, fighting the urge to cry out at the hot pain, and pressed the injector. The familiar sensation of a cooling flood poured into the wound and Ashley's whole body seemed to relax as the tension she didn't even know she was feeling pasted.

_Don't just sit there marine; you've got a job to do. Finish clean up and get that ass back in the fight._ She allowed herself a grunt and slowly tested the wound, pressing against it; no pain, just dullness this time.

"Why do I feel like I'm in a bad novel," she said allowed to herself before pressing the damaged plate back into its space. The hole would limit its effectiveness, but it was better than nothing. _Weapon check marine, we don't want you pissing water at them. _

Steady hands reached for her rifle and she performed the basic field check; heat sink damaged, ammo block fine, power pack charged, VI self-test positive. She set about pulling out the heat sink from the rifle, and her mind drifted towards the memory of that last time she'd done this, back on Ilos with Sh- _No you don't marine, no time for day dreaming._

She shook herself from her woolly thinking; damned medi-gel was stronger than she remembered. Focusing on her omnitool, she checked to see what it could do with the heat sink. The tool flashed and clicked as it scanned the damaged piece and ran through its combat diagnostics and repairs routines. After a few seconds of apparently mulling the information over, the tool flashed a red negative icon above her palm. "Fuck" she said, and looked back to her formally faith rifle.

She fought the instinct to keep the effectively broken weapon, her drill instructors words of how a marine eats, sleeps, and bathes with her rifle trying to persuade her otherwise, and set it down. She pulled a pistol and briefly checked it – all green, weapon in top shape.

* * *

Two Batarians slowly advanced down a street formed by virtue of being the tract of dirt between two of the white modular colony building. One had his omnitool glowing as he scanned forward.

"This way. Heat spike not far passed the end of that building."

The non-scanner simply nodded and signalled with his hand to switch to non-verbal. No need to tip off the target. Both Batarians advanced with weapons ready, half expecting the target to pop around the corner, guns blazing. This colony wasn't as much of a push over as Bosh Rad'Haad had promised, but the yield was definitely worth the trouble. Especially if he was right about who was visiting.

As they reached the end of the white modular colony building, they paused. The streets formed a cross road of ugly white human building, and the Batarians would be glad when they got off ugly world. In unison, they rounded the corner weapons raised, eyes jumping back and forth as they searched for a target.

The lead raised a hand and signed forward-left and the other saw what he had spotted; a small space between modules that formed a sort of alley. The sort of place someone would hide or rest in. They formed up and he checked his scanner, and a bright hot heat spike registered inside the alley. He nodded target confirmed. One… two… THREE. They charged around the corner, guns ready. And stopped in shock; no target, just a rifle. With hot vapour coming out of the heat sink bay.

Ashley pressed the pistol into the back of the first Batarian's neck and pulled the trigger, emptying the content of his throat against the wall. Before he could even drop dead to the ground, Ashley had already swung the pistol around on the second who was only now turning to face her. The gun barrel pressed against the Batarian's face between all four of his eyes. As he registered the situation, he muttered a curse that didn't translate, and slowly released his grip on his rifle.

"Good boy. Now, if you don't want your skull and its many eyes emptied against the wall, I suggest you turn around, hands up against the wall. As the Batarian did as he was told, Ashley brought the butt of her pistol against the back of his head, knocking him out cold. She wondered if she should finish the job and reduce the risk, but decided against the impulse. Scum he might be, but she was better than that. And now, she was even better; Even if Batarian guns weren't her style.

Goosebumps across her flesh, she tapped her omnitool and disengaged the life-support cooling system. Damn, that was cold.

* * *

Bosh Rad'Haad liked to see himself as a hunter. Slaving was merely the way he paid his meals. His true passion was outwitting his prey; be it sapient or beast; and defeating it in the competition of life. Seeing the natural battle between creatures in a hostile universe, and winning every time.

He sat back in the very temporary base his slaver band where experts in setting up by now and checked the clock; Alliance reinforcements had shown up at the relay an hour before he had predicted. Given the distance, they had about an hour before his raiding band had to load up and go. One frigate was guarding the relay, but they wouldn't fire on a ship full of human slaves – and if they did, his ship could take on one frigate. The 2 that where heading his way, on the other hand, would be enough to defeat his ship or keep her from flying. And whilst they had gotten plenty of stock from this raid, the biggest prize was still to be hunted; the female Williams.

Bosh's lips twitched in a smile at the mere thought of this hunt. Whilst she wasn't as big a hunt or prize as Shepard himself would have been, she was certainly an excellent replacement. Both dangerous and extremely valuable, there were many, MANY people in the Terminus who would leap at the chance to own one of the humans who'd saved the pathetic council. Or there where many who just wanted one of humanities most uppity members for some personal payback for the crimes of the Alliance against the Batarian people. Of course, there would also be a lot of bids from the whore houses of Khar'shan. Auction houses across the Terminus systems would be making offer to him for the pride and publicity of getting to host her auction. Truly, only the human Shepard would have been better in terms of demand, but alas some other hunter had beaten him to that prize.

To most of his crew, that alone would was enough motivation. But to Bosh it was merely an excellent bonus. He knew she was in his own estimation one of the top fighters in the Galaxy. She that had fought along side the human Shepard, mowing down waves of Geth and Krogan right by his side; and if extranet rumours where to be believed, lovers on the side. It was a high honour for him to hunt her. The glory of capturing her alone would place him along side the greatest names in Batarian history, along side Solem Kal'Jeer the Slaver of Kash'lan, or Ker Jer'Haad the warrior.

But now it was time to focus on the hunt. The aftermath would indeed be glorious, but letting himself be blinded by its majesty would only increase the chances of it not happening.

Bosh still could not believe his luck; what had been just another raid had chanced upon her. The Alliance where truly fools if they where wasting her on this wholly average dirt farming colony. And now she was within his reach. But how to finish the job and close the net?

Bosh began his reading; public biography on her, Alliance public versions of her combat record (incomplete, of course), video footage from the latest Alliance recruitment propaganda, all information sources he could muster from the ship's databank now that the extranet link had been slowed. To hunt a person, become their nightmares, so he had been taught. Get into their minds and stir up every bad thought, every horrible nightmare, everything they wished to keep suppressed: They will attack angry and stupid. Williams – clean record, but no notable actions before Shepard came along. And after that, she and Shepard where poster children for the Alliance's recruitment material. Something... not right. The Alliance maybe foolish, but they so rarely throw talent away without reason. What reason did they have for her?

* * *

**Alliance Attican Traverse Sector command station – Infantry subcommand module**

_2 weeks ago._

"Gunnery Chief Williams, reporting as ordered, ma'am"

The Admiral behind the oak desk (old Earth wood, she guessed – perks of rank), looked up from a report and nodded to her, "At ease, Chief Williams."

Ashley shifted to the at ease stance and briefly took in the room. Standard Alliance modular white on standard Alliance walls in a standard Alliance office configuration. Williams always had to marvel at the way the Alliance seemed to turn the wonders of space travel into an interstellar McDonalds. Although she did notice at least some personally in this room – old oak desk, framed photo of the Admiral on a world she didn't recognise with a blue-green sky line, and a surprising degree of untidiness on the her desk. Ashley had always thought an Admirals desk was the very peak of tidiness, not that she'd had much chance to find out herself.

"Chief Williams, the Alliance has seen fit to reassign you to my command after your holiday…" she said, referring to the time Ashley had taken to visit home following the destruction of the Normandy. Ashley had hoped it would help, being with her sisters for awhile, but the loss of the ship, good men like Pressly, and the loss of Shepard himself… it had all followed her home. The Admirals dismissive tone boiled her blood, but she keep her tongue in check for now. "And because of your lucky break at the Citadel, Alliance high command wants me to use your public image to try and reassure the local civies who find space too dark and lonely without the Alliance to hold their hands. Do you hear me Williams?"

"Ma'am, yes ma'am"

"Of course, I don't know what you'll do for their fragile nerves. Its not like a Williams has ever keep humanity safe."

Ashleys hands tightened into fists behind her back and focused on a point off in the distance about 30 cm above and to the left of the Admirals head, "If the Alliance didn't focus on wars it had already fought, ma'am, they might not have fears at all. Ma'am"

The Admiral frowned, but didn't reply to that, knowing an incident might go badly for her as the senior officer who should know better. "You'll be beginning a tour of duty for the next month taking you between a bunch of dirt farm worlds. Make a big play of your part in the Citadels defense -" Her tone making it clear she didn't think it was much of a part at all, "- And after that, we will see."

"Yes ma'am" Ashley groaned inwardly, knowing it would be little better than the backwater garrisons she had been given before Shepard had found her on Eden Prime.

"Geth shouldn't be an issue our here. The main battle lines are spinward from here, so you only have to worry about the infrequent Batarian raids. Your flight leaves at 0700 tomorrow."

Ashley saluted, "Yes ma'am."

"Dismissed, Gunnery Chief"

Ashley dropped the salute and turned a 180 to leave, but stopped as she saw a man sat down in a low armchair chair to the left of the entrance. The man, dressed in standard navy formal uniform, didn't have any sign of rank or identification. He seemed mid 30's in old terms, but with the modern medicines and engineering, he could be anything from 30 to 60 and still look like that. And he was watching her. In fact, watching was too light a word. Studying would be more accurate.

"I said dismissed Williams."

Ashley replied, "Yes ma'am" and left without further looking at the man. She wondered who he was or what he was doing there, but answers were not forthcoming.

* * *

Ashley moved slowly down the street, stolen rifle pressed against her shoulder as she weep its barrel back and forth, scanning for targets. Two more round up parties had encountered the business end of her boomstick so far, and she wasn't eager for them to get a chance to react.

"Gunnery Chief Williams," came a booming voice with the crackle of a megaphone, "I have to admit, it is an honour to be hunting such a prime example of your species."

Williams frowned slightly, confused as to why the Batarian had selected her, but she soon came to similar conclusions about her own value on the slave market, and if there's one thing you can count on from Batarians, their good at estimating the value of a slave.

"An interesting career, Williams – everyone seems to die around you… Eden Prime, Virmire, and then the Normandy itself."

Williams shut her eyes a moment. _He's trying to get in your head soldier. Keep it locked down. Don't let him in._

"And now here, on this dirt ball. I have to wonder how many slaves I would need to kill before you will act."

Williams tried to tune him out as she resumed her advance, trying to keep a lid on her emotions, the anger at this Batarian bastard and her regret and guilt over the last few months.

"And I have to ask, Williams, how do your people react to that oh-so famous name of yours? Have they forgotten it was a traitors name yet?"

_Smug Batarian bastard_, she thought. _Keep it calm marine, you don't want ugly's getting the drop on you._

* * *

Charl Ket'leet was assigned the very dull task of guarding the latest batch of slaves. Stand on a low wall, he looked over the huddled chattel, assault rifle balanced on his knees. The sobs and moans of the chained and mostly beaten colonists were annoying, but wasn't his job to break them.

A burst of automatic fight panged off of his barriers and he fell backwards over the wall. The slaves started wailing and hugging the ground, but Charl wasn't concerned about that. He was more concerned by the HUD showing over 90% of his barrier was down. He hit his comm button and shouted, "Counter attack at the chattel pen, need help now! Repeat, counter attack the the penns, need help now!"

He stuck his gun over the top of the wall and fired off a burst from cover.

"Roger that, hold on, squads are on route to your location. Is it prime target or garrison harassment?"

"No clue – seems like only one shoot-."

A gun shot from behind emptied the back of his head through the front, and against the wall.

* * *

Bosh nodded to his Lieutenant, "Go – take all the men. Make sure the chattel don't escape."

"What about you, sir?"

"I will catch the prime target. My prey. Now go! She might not be the only soldier on this rock"

As his lieutenant and the men left, Bosh turned his attention to his choice of weapon. A sub-machine gun with barrier focused rounds; perfect for cutting through her barriers whilst having a lower risk of braking through the armour and killing her.

He turned and moved away from the ship entrance towards one of the modular colony building with a perfect overview of the ship entrance. He smiled to himself and waited for her. It was too obvious she would go for the slaves – human weakness for there own kind being what it is. But he knew she knew that an attack on the slave guards would invoke all the guards to go there, so logically, she had a different target in mind. And the best alternative target would be the ship. And with the rest of the band away, the glory would be all his.

Bosh set his omnitool to a passive motion detector and waited, trying to say as still as possible. After what feel like years of waiting, he saw the flash on the display to tell him something was approaching. He flicked off the tool and readied his gun. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1!

He leap up, bracing his arm against the top of the low wall and pointed the gun at Williams, exposed as she was between the nearest colony building and the ship. A calculated risk on her part, and one he'd hoped she'd make. The SMG barked out a stream of bullets that ripped into her kinetic barriers.

Bosh watched closely, making sure the bullets weren't going to kill her as she rolled to try and get into some sort of cover. But there was no cover to be found and after a second she dropped to the floor, unmoving.

The SMG fell silent and Bosh, leap over the wall, jogging towards his prize. I might even consider keeping her myself a major trophy for myself and the band. We'd be renown in Terminus space for this. As he got closer, he was relieved to hear her mumbling to her self, "… Thy Kingdom… come… thy will…be…be…"

Bosh reached his prize and rolled her over, elation and pride filling him. He was, however, most surprised to see a pistol ram itself up at his throat and feel a sudden numbness around his throat.

"You shouldn't piss off a lady who knows how to use a boomstick," she grunted at him.

Bosh pressed both hands to his throat as his eyes looked around madly, as if something would cure the massive hole in his neck. Ashley pushed him in the chest and he feel onto his bad as he felt his life leaking away.

_It was a good hunt_, he thought before the darkness overwhelmed him.

Ashley grunted as she surveyed the area from the dirt, trying to make sure he was the only one she had to worry about. "Twice in one day…great…"

But she didn't have time for treatment; the sound of gunfire was bound to have attracted the attentions of the rest of the band, and she was in no shape to take them on.

She pushed herself up, pressing her arms up with all she could muster. Get it together marine. She managed to get onto her knees, arms and legs feeling weak as a kittens. _Screw it_, she thought. _Pride can wait; the colonists need you; the Alliance needs you…_

She crawled on her hands and knees towards the ship entrance, a distance that just 5 minutes ago seemed so close and now seemed so far away. _Make granddad proud, marine, show them all the Williams can beat the best of them._

Forcing herself all the way and leaving a trail of blood, she reached the ship door and slid herself in. She looked around from the floor of his garbage pit the Batarians called a ship and saw what she needed. The airlock controls, just a metre above her.

She grunted as she lifted herself up onto her knees and lifted and arm up. It feel heavy, and the distance seemed measurable, but she forced her muscles to cross the gap. She pressed the seal and the airlock slammed shut, sealing up vacuum tight. She dropped her arm and let it move to pistol at her hip. Two shots through the controls, and the door was not going to open again within the time before the Alliance arrived. She grunted and murmured, "Thank you God"

* * *

**Alliance Attican Traverse Sector command station – Infantry subcommand module**

_1 week later_

"So... you managed to survive a simple tour of duty, Williams?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ashley looked straight forward and tried to keep at attention, even though many of her muscles where protesting about inhumane treatment to them.

"I see. A Williams can avoid bowing to aliens for once, hmm?"

"Yes ma'am – I managed to do it without Alliance support. Like all William's have to…ma'am"

With a grunt, the Admiral looked past Williams and said, "She's all yours."

Williams avoided the urge to turn, though she knew the unnamed man from before was there

"Miss Williams? If you would come with me please."

"Chief Williams, if you please…erm, sir."

"Commander Talbert, special operations."

"Yes sir…"

Ashley followed the self declared Talbert. Well, pride won't hurt now, she told herself as she tried to keep the temporary limp out of her walk.

They entered an identically sized room to the Admirals office, and in many ways it was similar, though the big different was the view, "Structural weakness, I know, but I like to see the expanse of space when I work. I find it helps to keep my work in perceptive."

"Yes sir," she replied shortly.

"No need to be so formal, if you don't mind my ways, Williams," he parked himself in a seat and motioned at another infront of his desk, "I would suggest you sit down but your body looks half way to making you regardless."

With a smirk, and a small amount of hurt pride, Ashley accepted the seat and said to him, "Permission to speak, sir?" He nodded, trying not to smirk about the fact he'd already asked her not to be so formal. "What is this about?"

"Well, at the moment, we're waiting for…" he was interrupted by an electronic beep, "Speak of the devil." Talbert hit an intercom button on his not quite as old wood desk and said, "Yes?"

"He's ready now sir. Should I patch him through?"

"Please do." he released the button and turned as a holographic display began to appear in the air, "I'm sure you remember Councillor Anderson?"

Anderson's image formed out of the hologram and Ashley said, "Sir! I'm surprised to see you. Its good to see you, of course, just…surprising." She looked at him and noticed he seemed more tired in the eyes than when they'd last meet.

"It's good to see you too Williams. I'm sure you're wondering what this is all about."

Talbert began, "Councillor Anderson recommended we look at you for recruitment into the Special Operations branch. The admirals, as you might have guessed, and generally alittle… questioning of you. The saving of the Citadel certainly gave you a lot of credit, but their where enough hold outs who questioned how big apart you where of it."

"Indeed. Apparently family history and pride are more important to some of them than the facts. But your actions on Rubor colony have shown your value to those pencil pushers."

"It was a setup?" asked Williams, disbelieving and with a tide of anger building in her back.

Talbert shook his head, "No-no. We suspected their might be a slaver raid soon, but we didn't have definitive evidence. We hoped you'd have an opportunity to prove yourself and you did. Sooner than we thought, as it happens"

Anger simmered in Ashley's head as she absorbed this information and considered it. "Prove myself for what, exactly?" she asked whilst she thought.

"A variety of tasks. Scouting, recon, special investigations … basically, the Alliance is suffering without someone like Shepard. Now, I'm not saying you'd be filling his shoes – you won't be a Spectre and you won't be working for the Council. But… we need people who can get the job done, like he did."

Ashley let the anger slide for now and said quietly, "I see."

Talbert said in a near equally quiet tone, "We understand this is a lot to take in, and we don't expect you to make the decision now. But we do think you are capable of this. And this way, you'd get a chance to do the most you can for the Alliance without a group of Admirals with their heads up their asses trying to block you for the perceived 'shame' of your family."

Ashley finished with, "I will…think about it…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Arch-Angel Rising**

* * *

"Don't undertake a project unless it is manifestly important and nearly impossible."  
- **Edwin Land** _(inventor of the__ Polaroid camera)_

It had been the big bad month after Shepard had taken a long walk into the void, and the Galaxy was rolling right along without him as it had an annoying tenancy. My own world wasn't doing quite so well itself; the team had broken up as soon at the Alliance thought Shepard's corpse was cold, and the Council had the opportunity to sweep the Reapers under the carpet it was longing for.

C-Sec didn't want or need a bad Turian who liked to skip around the rules like yours truly, and I didn't want a group of pencil pushers trying to shove their pencils where they didn't belong. The separation was amicable; they got the half broke Citadel and I got myself a ticket to Omega and all the guns I could carry.

I arrived on the hell hole the Terminus systems laughably called a capitol only a few weeks and a few dead Mercs later. With my holiday out of the way, Omega's dirty fingers began to embrace me, whispering the promise of her riches for the small price of my soul like the devils own hooker. I walked her streets and and saw the price Omega had taken from those too poor or too greedy to leave her poisoned soil.

The plans I'd thought up on the way over seems foolishly tiny now, wholly overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the problems of Omega. I'd fancied the idea of being a Private Investigator like the old Earth vids the Normandy's crew had watched off duty, but that was another life and Omega was beyond the powers of something as civil and polite as a PI. Wet work would be needed to make a real change to the hellish lives the rich and powerful were forcing on the rest.

I pounded the streets, watching, observing, blending in with the Turian's already here. I learned of Aria, as dangerous as she was attractive, but yet strangely fair. If you didn't mess with her, she didn't mess with you, so the only people suffering under her were mercs who thought they could cheat her or criminals who'd thought they could break Omega's only rule - "Don't fuck with Aria."

Deciding that the Aria's supposed victims where hardly innocent, I decided to obey Omega's rule, but beyond Aria where plenty of slavers, smugglers, gangs and thugs who I had no trouble planning again. They were primarily divided into three big groups; the Blue Suns, the Eclipse, and the Blood Pack.

And so I set to the task of planning my first strikes. But as I was walking down the streets around my rented hovel, Omega offered me an opportunity for a quick start. A through the crowd a Salarian burst from the packed masses and ran past me, fleeing with all the energy his muscles could force. As I watched his flight, 3 Blue Suns Mercs seem to follow his lead, although the word here seemed to be 'chase' instead of flight. Acting on impulse, I followed.

The Salarian made a bad choice and ended up being cornered in an alley way. As he seemed to realise his mistake, he took cover and tried to keep the mercs back with his pea shooter pistol. The mercs, two Turians and a Human, took positions around the mouth of the alley, chuckling to themselves as they knew their quarry was trapped without an escape. They began taunting the poor sod and my blood boiled.

"Ghek, you arse, you should look where you're going. Especially when Tarak is looking to have a chat. I'm afraid you'll have to die now. A pity a poor sense of direction cost you that much, but such is life."

I decided then and there the Turian who thought himself a witty philosopher would be the first to die, and I moved to aim the barrel of my pistol right at his neck.

An explosion shook my feet, although I managed to stay upright. I would have considered finding out what had caused the blast, but the sight of both my own and witty the Turian's kinetic barriers dropping stirred me into action. With two shots to the neck, I dropped him and rounded the corner to get a bead on his buddies. One was already dead, a shot through his head whilst his barriers had been cut down too. The Salarian was out of cover and running towards the alley way exit when the second Turian popped up out of cover and took aim. I brought up my pistol and pumped two rounds into his shoulder, spinning him around as he fell in pain and shock. I ran to him and finished the job with a round through the head.

My gun beeped into my headset, warning me I needed to change heat sink just as I felt a cold barrel of metal pressed against my neck.

"Whilst I'm grateful for the help, I would like to know why you did it and what you want out of it," said the Salarian.

"Nothing. I helped you because you where in trouble, and because I don't like mercs," I replied, trying to turn my eyes enough to look at him without twisting my neck and encouraging him to pull the trigger. My heart was starting to beat hard in my ears at the touch of that cold metal.

"So, you helped me out of the goodness of your own heart? On Omega? Yeah... I'm not buying it pal," though in spite of his words, I feel the barrel withdraw slightly.

"I don't know what to tell you then. Other than I thought you'd need help. Though, the trick with the blast and the barriers was good. Tech specialist?" I asked.

"Ha, yes. People always underestimate Salarians. Small blast with a directed EM component - kills barriers and the blast confuses people for a few seconds," he lowered the pistol to his side and I slowly turned to face him, noting he had the pistol in hand still in case I tried anything. I was beginning to like him.

"STG? Or just good," I asked.

"My past is my past, but its sufficient to say I know my way around battlefield tech. You.... precise shooting, and aiding people for no reason. I would go for the obvious Turian military, but I think ex C-Sec, no?" he said, eyeing me curiously.

"Good guess. Those guys after you for any reason or just for kicks?"

"Ha... apparently Tarak doesn't appreciate people toying around with his cargo containers. Especially when it causes bad e-zero to leak into one of his shipments," said the Salarian with a smile growing on his face.

I smiled slightly, or as close as Turians can manage. "I see. I take it your not keen on mercs either?"

"Nope. And the beautiful part of mercs is that one group is always willing to pay you to mess with the others."

I nodded and said, "I'm trying to cause... alittle trouble for the mercs on Omega."

"What...all of them? I'm impressed, my Turian friend, we've not seen people with that many suicidal tenancies on Omega in quite some time."

"Maybe. But its time someone kicked back for the people those scum kick down every day," I replied, looking into his eyes.

"I see..." he pauses and seemed to think, slowly grinning, "Do you have room on your team?"

I extended my hand to him, hand open, "Well, if your crazy enough to risk pissing off the whole of Omega with me..."

"I might just be that crazy. My last decade just got interesting..." And he took my hand - the first of my team.


End file.
